


Release

by Meraad



Series: The Disaster that is Evelyn Trevelyan [5]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:08:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27785767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meraad/pseuds/Meraad
Summary: The only emotion Evelyn Trevelyan is comfortable with is rage and Blackwall is the only person who can temper it.
Relationships: Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Inquisitor, Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Trevelyan
Series: The Disaster that is Evelyn Trevelyan [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1244630
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Release

Evelyn was angry. Every muscle in her body ached, from her shoulders down to the balls of her feet. And she was tired, so very exhausted, utterly drained of all energy. But the rift had been sealed and Haven was celebrating. People were happy and relieved. And she was livid. 

The gall. 

That bastard.

How dare he?

The Warden Blackwall.

After whispering words that had gutted her, he acted as if he cared. 

When sealing the breach, near the end, Evelyn had hit her knees, so overwhelmed by the power that was pouring through her, and into the breach. And when the deed was done, she’d knelt there, head tilted back, staring up at it, and she’d tried to get up. Tried to get her body to move, but she’d been so tired, so empty that rather than struggle, rather than having to look anyone in the eye as she was forced to ask for help, she let her body go limp.

Evelyn let her eyes roll back as she went down, grateful she was on her knees, which meant it didn’t hurt so much when she hit the stones beneath her. But she’d seen him before her eyes slid shut.

Blackwall lurching forward, as if he’d catch her before she fell. Then she heard voices. Solas, confirming that the rift was sealed. There were cheers. And then she’d been wrapped up in that familiar scent that could only belong to one man. Leather and sawdust, and horses and… him. “I’ve got her,” Blackwall’s voice was low and rough and his hands gentle as he tucked one beneath her knees and the other under her shoulders.

He didn’t falter, though it was a fair distance from the ruined temple to Haven. Evelyn ignored the voices and the words that were spoken. Seeker Pentaghast was still angry with her, which made sense since Evelyn couldn’t help but pick fights with the other woman at every opportunity. Varric was placating. Dorian was teasing the Commander about something and there was quiet chatter that blurred together. 

Only Blackwall was silent, save for when The Iron Bull offered a hand. “I’ve got her,” he said and no one else offered again. She felt the shift in the air, the sound of his boots on wooden floorboards before he laid her out on the bed in her cabin. He smoothed a hand over the top of her head and breathed out a long sigh before she felt him tug the blanket that lay neatly folded at the foot of her bed over her. He seemed to hesitate another moment and then he let quietly, closing the door behind him. 

Evelyn lay in that bed for at least an hour, seething. How dare he be kind. How dare he pretend.

_He held her pinned against the stone wall, the faces so close they shared breath. Her nose brushed against his and she could feel the tickle of his beard against her chin. “Ev,” he murmured and she stared up at him, his thumb was against her chin, sliding up, brushing against the edge of her lower lip._

_Would he kiss her? Would he take that liberty? Did she want him to? No, of course, she didn’t, she silently breasted herself. “The kiss,” he started and licked his lips, and she knew, he was going to lean in, close that hairsbreadth of a distance and claim her mouth. “You know it meant nothing.”_

His words were a bucket of cold water doused over her head. 

It meant nothing. 

Nothing.

She’d kissed him, and he’d said it meant nothing. Seven years after last kissing her husband goodbye, she’d brushed her lips against another man’s mouth and he’d told her it meant nothing. Only, he was a liar. Evelyn knew he was a liar and that made it worse.

Because he’d said it for her. Because he kept trying to take care of her. To be kind when she didn’t deserve it.

Evelyn hadn’t been able to save him in that terrible future. He’d died protecting her, and all he’d wanted was a kiss.

Throwing back the blanket she sneered at it, another act of his kindness, and got up. Slipping out of the cabin, she stuck to the shadows, seeing everyone celebrating, Evelyn didn’t want to spoil that for them. She walked out the front gates and past the stables and the blacksmith and he was there, as he so often was, leaning against the stone wall, staring up at the sky. 

Quickening her pace, she shoved his shoulder, catching him off guard. Blackwall straightened and looked at her, brows lifted, expectant. “Glad to see you’re up and about again,” he said and Evelyn grit her teeth. 

He’d known she was faking it. Of course, he did. He’d cared for her when she’d nearly died after taking on those demons. Of course, he’d known she wasn’t truly unconscious. “Fuck you,” she spat at him. “You fucking-” tears stung her eyes and she blinked rapidly. “Stop trying to be nice to be. Stop pretending that you care.” 

Sympathy flashed in his eyes and that only made her angrier. “You aren’t going to save me. You can’t fix me,” she snarled at him. “Go play the hero for someone else. I don’t need or want your kindness.”

“Then what do you want from me?” he asked, arms over his chest, waiting. 

Evelyn made a blatant show of looking down at his crotch. “The only thing you’re good for.” She’d said it in hopes of a reaction. Obvious pity for how she was lashing out, or anger. Something. Anything other than the acceptance. Because she hadn’t meant it. Not about him. Blackwall was a hero, he was a good leader. Someone who people looked to when things were hard, or scary, and he easily slipped into that role, soothed the fears, and strengthened their resolve.

His acceptance made her heart hurt, and that made her even more angry. Shoving at his chest, he let her push him back and around the corner of the building, out of view and blocked off by trees to anyone who might be walking along the road from the bridge.

Evelyn wasn’t a leader. She wasn’t brave. She didn’t reassure people or make them feel better about what was happening around them. Since Alexander and Isaak had died, she’d fucked as many men as she could because, for those fleeting moments, she could pretend she was escaping all the pain that she held in her heart. So really, it was the only thing she was good for.

“Ev,” Blackwall breathed her name as she hit her knees in front of him and tugged at the laces of his trousers. “Ev,” he said again, his hand sliding into her hair as she yanked his pants down enough, curled her hand around the currently soft length of him, and took him into her mouth. He hissed, groaned and she heard his head thump back against the wall.

She wouldn’t apologize for what she’d said. Couldn’t apologize. No. This would fix it. They could go back to fucking each other's brains out and he’d stop trying to save her. His hand was gentle in her hair, his thumb stroking behind her ear as she moved her mouth on his hardening erection. Glancing up through her lashes as she drew back until just the head rested on her tongue she saw him watching her. 

Saw the softness in his gaze and her heart hurt. She wanted to lash out, to cause him pain because she couldn’t bear the weight of his caring. One of her hands curled around his hip, and she dug her nails into the skin there, drawing a groan from his lips. Evelyn bobbed her head faster, taking him deeper into her mouth until she felt him against the back of her throat. 

Carefully she pressed her teeth against his cock, felt him tense, and oh so slowly dragged them up his length. Just as she reached the sensitive head, he shuddered and tightened his fist in her hair. He yanked her head back, a sticky saliva trail clung from the tip of his cock and her lower lip. His breathing was ragged and there was so much heat in his gaze she felt scorched to her core. 

Blackwall dragged her up to her feet, spun her around, and hauled her bodily over to a stack of crates that were behind the building. One of the stacks was shorter, just one box high and he made quick work of yanking her breeches down before bending her over it. 

Evelyn heard him spit, then felt his wet fingers slid between her thighs, over her already dripping wet sex. His curse was low and dirty and then with no preamble the swollen head of his erection pressed against her lower lips and he thrust his hips forward, burying his cock in her core. Evelyn shoved her fist against her mouth to quiet the keening cry of pleasure that threatened to escape.

There was no slow build-up, no tenderness. He pounded into her hard and fast, one hand at her waist the other fisted in her hair. The pleasure was a violent storm and she felt it building until she teetered on the edge. 

And then he was gone. Her body empty and cold and it only lasted a heartbeat before she felt his tongue thrust into her cunt. His fingers dug into her ass, the leather warm and soft against her skin while his lips and tongue did wicked things to her. She was there again, almost to that crest when he drew back once more.

A quiet cry escaped her lips and he yanked her upright, his cock, hot and hard slid between her folds but didn’t enter her. She was so wet, drenched, her lust slick and dripping down her thighs. “If it’s all I’m good for, I wouldn’t want to disappoint,” he rasped against her ear and it all seemed to happen in the same instance. Blackwall’s cock filled her once more, one of his hands slid between her thighs, his fingers, those damn leather gloves, slid over her clit, while the other clamped over her mouth, stifling the scream as pleasure raced through her body like lightning. 

She felt like a ragdoll the way he manhandled her, her body nothing but a vessel for pleasure. Her own pleasure was overflowing as tears rolled down her cheeks. _Don’t stop, don’t stop,_ she silently begged, one of her hands sliding back to cup his ass, as he drove into her again and again. 

Blackwall didn’t let up, she felt the orgasm building again and she was trembling and then it washed over her, she sobbed against his palm, and her inner walls clenched down around his thick cock as he bucked, his body curling around hers, pushing and pushing as if he could somehow get deeper inside her as he pulsed and came, filling her with the wet flood of his release. 

The oh-so-soft brush of his lips against the crook of her neck broke her as he drew his hand from her mouth, down to wrap around the front of his shoulders, keeping her limp weight supported. “Ev,” he whispered and she shuddered against him with a silent sob. She’d die before admitting she liked his new shortened version of her name. 

Unlike the last time she’d wept after he’d wrenched delicious orgasms from her, he held her. His arms strong bands, his half-hard cock still buried inside her. They stayed like that for long minutes, until the cold got to be too much and he drew back enough to tug up her trousers and then somehow his own, all without releasing her. When he turned her, he kissed along her throat and her jaw, up over her cheeks, kissing away the remnants of her tears. 

Their lips were so close, his mouth hovering at the corner of hers. All it would take is the slightest shift and their mouths would meet. But Blackwall didn’t close that distance. He didn’t take what he could so easily have. “It didn’t mean nothing,” he murmured instead, his breath warm against her face. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first night in the tavern. I took advantage of you that day. You were upset and I never should have laid a finger on you.”

But it was what she had needed. She’d been in shock, horrified by what she’d seen, and terrified of what was to come. And Blackwall had held her, cleaned her up, and healed a part of her that had broken in that future when she’d watched him die. “Stop being such a noble bastard,” her voice was hoarse, and she turned her face, closing those last few millimeters to press her lips to his. 

Blackwall didn’t react at first, frozen against her, until she sunk her teeth into his lower lip, and then he was kissing her. Hard and consuming and she clung to him as if he was the only thing that would keep her afloat in the violent chaos that had become her life.

Evelyn didn’t know how long they stayed like that, holding on to each other, kissing as if their very lives depended on it before the clanging of bells and shouts had them pulling apart.


End file.
